“Scarry Skies”
I’ll take down the rain
the sky
to undress it
bold as a cherry wood wardrobe
the parlor boys grip their chips
the dents and sparks where you used to
lay your tangled hair, a battle hive
of chain-link barbed-wire bolts
casings and pirouettes in barrels
pure or loud as the silver bell
stricken to cold ears
hearing the roof talk
to the weather’s van
a tonic vain
as stripes could lose their muster
but spots could turn us around tonight
leopards and the wild jaguars caw
pull levers from their spectacle drawers
give me a paradise,
faked or photographed
in guilty hideaways,
not the bone crunch of skull:
a messiah turned away again,
waterfalls to lead you back
through hovering alleys, the juniper coat
emeralds the deep river
eyes agleam with this jungle carnation
to torture and rescue us
because the sunlight
is an impossible illusion.
nicholauspatnaude 
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